


La Seine and I

by WriteDreamLie



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss, Un monstre à Paris | A Monster in Paris (2011)
Genre: And then she's gone again, F/M, Just a song, La Seine and I, Remember that time I wrote a non-song fic?, Song fic, me either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteDreamLie/pseuds/WriteDreamLie
Summary: Kvothe's performance is saved, once again, by an angel of song.





	La Seine and I

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicating this to the friend who got me to watch A Monster in Paris a few years ago. Happy New Year, Nina!
> 
> Song lyrics (c) A Monster in Paris, 2011

I doubt if anyone would believe it if I admitted it, but I really didn’t remember the song.

It wasn’t a common one, nothing sung late nights by the happy drunkards I usually played for these days. The tune was all that had stuck with me after all this time. I was sure I’d heard it somewhere recently too, but for the life of me, the words wouldn’t come.

But the notes did. I began strumming them without thinking, my fingers moving across the strings without conscious thought. It had to be that way, in fact; if I thought about it too hard, I’d most definitely falter.

I couldn’t afford to do that tonight.

And, as usual, she appeared as my savior.

I played the opening tune once before I even noticed her face in the crowd. Lovely as usual, her dark hair framing her face so that she seemed like nothing less than an angel peering out from the darkness. I saw Denna’s mouth round into a perfect “O” of astonishment as the notes went on.

By the second playing of the tune, she was pushing her way—politely, of course—through the crowd to get to the stage.

By the time I’d come ‘round to the third line, she was up, and singing like no one else.

“ _She’s resplendent, so confident: La Seine, La Seine, La Seine._ ”

Of course she knew the words. And I knew they were the right ones. They felt right, even though I couldn’t have said myself what the words were before Denna began singing them. They were just there, like she’d written the song herself.

“ _Is she divine? Is it the wine? La Seine, La Seine, La Seine._ ”

She spun across the stage as she broke into the chorus, her silvery gown flowing with the motion.

“ _I don’t know, don’t know, so don’t ask me why. That’s how we are, La Seine and I._ ”

To this day, I can’t tell you what triggered the memory. Maybe it was the way she moved, the tune she seemed to carry on her own, independent of my playing, or perhaps just he words themselves, but somehow, I managed to pick up the next line by myself.

“ _I feel alive when I’m beside La Seine, La Seine, La Seine… From this angle, like an angel, La Seine, La Seine, La Seine…_ ”

She was dancing across the stage like an angel herself, resplendent in every movement. I turned to watch her as we broke into the next chorus together, singing in harmony like we’d planned it from the start. I couldn’t help but think of the first time we’d sung a song together, she as the Aloine to my Savien in one of my earliest visits to the Eolian. She was no less startling and perfect today than she’d been then.

By the third verse, we were together on every note, the words coming back to me as if I’d never lost them. They may as well have been a child’s nursery rhyme for how easily they came, and how quickly my fingers flew across the strings of my lute.

I should have known Denna would have one last surprise up her sleeve.

As we rushed into the final stanza of the song, she began to clap at the edge of the stage, leaning forward to indicate the crowd should do the same. In just a few seconds, she’d got the entirety of the Eolian crowd clapping in time with her as she continued to step across the stage.

Finally, she stepped note by note back to me and pulled be to my feel by my shoulders, careful not to interrupt my concentrated playing. My hands were concentrated, at least; my eyes, however, never left her face.

I managed to stand, still playing, but that wasn’t enough for her. A second later, she had me dancing across the stage with her, matching her steps as closely as I could.

For a moment, I all but forgot the crowd itself. Forgot I was here for money, for notoriety, to get myself a patron. Instead, I was only there for Denna. Seeing her had been my goal all along, and now I’d reached that goal, I wasn’t going to look away any time soon.

Unfortunately for me, I realized this as the song came to a close.

Denna’s steps, quick though they were just a moment before, slowed suddenly, and my feet and fingers both did the same.

Then we were bowing. The clapping had gone from rhythmic to uproarious. Patrons of the Eolian were standing and cheering, some calling for an encore.

There would be none. I turned to Denna as if to ask if she’d like to sing another while we had the stage, but she was already rushing off back into the crowd with nothing more but a quick, one-handed wave in my direction as she disappeared into the sea of faces once more.

“ _That’s how we love, La Seine and I…_ ”

**Author's Note:**

> This has been stuck in my head for months, and a bit of alcohol and the New Year's spirit finally got it out of me. 
> 
> If you haven't seen A Monster in Paris, go watch it now. It's on Netflix. Start 2018 off with the cutest thing you'll see all year. Also read the Kingkiller Chronicles if you haven't. Whatever fandom you came here for, go explore the other, because they're both fantastic.


End file.
